


Thaw

by orphan_account



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, But then it turned into porn with angst and a fluffy ending, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Masturbation kinda, Porn with Feelings, RnM secret santa, Shower Sex, This was supposed to be steamy porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 22:33:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13153410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rick L-043 abandons his Morty on the Citadel, days before a heavy synthetic snowstorm hits. Thankfully he's found by another Rick, who discovers why this Morty was abandoned so coldly. Things get....steamy and then fluffy.I'm really bad at summaries.





	Thaw

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wryandwatchful](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wryandwatchful/gifts).



> The prompt was a steamy RickMorty fic, and so I decided to take 'steamy' literally and then from there it evolved into this monstrosity. This is for Havokwreaker on Tumblr for the RnM Secret Santa!!! You're one of my favorite fic writers and I hope you like it!! <3

Crunch…...crunch…..crunch…. Every footstep crunched beneath Morty’s shoes as he trudged through shin deep snow illuminated only by the dim orange streetlights that lined Mortytown.  
He’d long since stopped shivering, and deep down somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that was a bad sign. But it felt like a blanket of snow had settled on his brain, dulling his senses and slowing his thoughts.  
His arms remained wrapped tightly around himself however, still trying to conserve what little body heat remained trapped inside of his small body. His eyes lazily tracked the path in front of himself while his sluggish mind began to wander to warmer and happier things. Home. Warm, familiar home. Full home. Full of family. Mom, dad, Summer…. Memories of sitting around a dinner table with family, listening to the usual chatter and bickering.… His thoughts continued to wander until it fell upon something else warm….but also painful. Rick.  
Fresh tears welled up and fell down his cheeks, feeling hot on his frigid face. 

 

His Rick. 

 

Morty raised a hand to swipe the tears off his face before they froze and gave a quiet sniffle. No use crying about it now. Or at least, that’s what he tried to tell himself, but the tears continued to fall at a steady pace now. His vision blurred and the path in front of him had become impossible to navigate.  
He was forced to stop in his tracks and rub his face repeatedly with the back of his wrist, his other arm still wrapped tightly around himself. Though it was his Rick’s fault that he was here now, wandering alone down the frozen snowy streets of Mortytown without even a hoodie, he didn’t care. He’d give anything to be at his Rick’s side again. But it was through his own actions...or inaction.. that his Rick was gone. Gone and never coming back. No one was coming to help. No one would answer his cries if he tried to call for help.  
He lifted his head and looked around. The doors around him were all locked up tight and he was positive that knocking on any of them would be pointless. On this particular side of the Citadel, no one had anything to spare.  
He took a few moments to compose himself and continue his slow progress forward…. ...crunch….crunch….crunch…. Each step was becoming more and more laborious and he could feel the toes of his shoes dragging against the buried concrete. Then, without warning, his right toe caught on a buckled section of sidewalk and he tumbled forward and fell face first into the snow. His fall was a soft one, having been cushioned by the freshly fallen flurry. But still he lay there a moment, groaning quietly and rolling onto his side to start the process of getting back up. Though...maybe being down here wasn’t so bad. The snow was soft and he was so tired. His limbs felt heavy and he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open. He felt strangely warm. Maybe...maybe he’d just rest here a minute? Yeah. That sounded nice. A little rest and then he could continue looking for a place to stay. That was a good plan. He let his eyes fall closed, listening to the nearly silent sound of snow continuing to fall from the synthetic night sky of the Citadel. 

In the dark void of unconsciousness, he felt a curious sensation. One of being lifted. Up he went, like gravity had ceased to exist and no longer held him down against the cold ground. Warmth and comfort enveloped his small body like a protective cocoon. He could feel himself relaxing into it and letting it carry him off, away from the cold, hard darkness. Maybe he’d finally died? Was this what death felt like? He didn’t know, and he didn’t necessarily care. He was content in this warmth, with no real want or need to free himself of it. At least until the warmth surrounding him started to become warmer…and warmer...and warmer? He tried to move his limbs, but they seemed unwilling to respond. The heat around him had quickly turned uncomfortable, and he battled to free himself from it to no avail. He paused in his struggling for a moment to gather his strength and then with all his might, willed himself to move. His eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright, gasping and gulping air down into his lungs, as if he’d suddenly been resuscitated. The suffocating warmth seemed to diminish slightly and he paused his flailing to take in his surroundings.

That ‘cocoon of warmth’ seemed to be a thick pile of blankets lain over him and the well worn couch he lay upon, his squirming and shifting seemed to have pushed most of them aside, a few of them now lying crumpled on the floor. As he slowly took in his surroundings, he noticed he was in a small room. But it didn’t seem like a bedroom really. More like a front room, since he could see a coffee table next to the couch with stacks of beer cans atop it as well as an ashtray, leftover fast food wrappers and a few other electronic looking odds and ends. Beyond that to his left, facing the couch was a small entertainment center with an interdimensional cable box and a small wall mounted television. The personal effects were eerily familiar. To his right was a short hallway with two doors on either side of it and one small door at the very end, most likely a hall closet or something. In front of him was what looked like a front door, with a mat in front of it and a few pairs of shoes set neatly beside it. 

“You’re a lucky little shit.” 

 

The hairs on the back of Morty’s neck stood on end as that uncannily familiar voice rasped behind him. He whipped around, frightened brown eyes meeting familiar piercing blue. 

“Any longer *hurph*-out there and you’d have frozen solid to the ground. Good job for passing out in the middle of the sidewalk. Pretty good tactic for someone to actually be able to find you before you became a Morty popsicle.” Rick continued, holding a mug of something… Something warm. Morty temporarily found himself zoning out on the thin tendrils of steam rising up from the mug, furling up around itself and dissipating. “You...you’re not my Rick.” His voice came out barely above a whisper, as his eyes refocused on Rick’s face. Rick brought the mug up to his lips, not seeming to mind the temperature of the beverage inside.  
“No kidding.” Was his response, simple and to the point.  
Rick started to interrogate him. He asked what he was doing there. How he’d gotten there. Morty hastily came up with a vague story about having ‘lost’ his Rick and now had nowhere to go. He’d actually surprised himself with how easily the lie had slipped from his tongue.  
Rick has his suspicion that there had most likely been a falling out between them. He MIGHT be one of those Mortys, the ones who were too smart, or too full of attitude. But who could really say?  
What he did know was that the kid seemed like he needed comfort. Needed someone.  
At first Rick was hesitant to oblige. His aim was to simply get the boy back on his feet and get him strong enough to move on to somewhere less dangerous. Maybe he’d even take him to such a safe place tomorrow.  
Fuck, he reminded him so much of his own previous Morty. Somehow his mannerisms were so similar. More than any Morty he’d met since...  
He heard himself offer up his home as temporary shelter before he could stop himself or change his mind.  
“Wh..really??” Morty stared up at Rick with that wide, awed expression and Rick felt his heart clench tightly. He took that moment to have a seat in a nearby armchair.  
“Yeah… Really.” He grunted. “Now drink your cocoa before it gets cold.”  
Morty blinked and stared down at the mug in his hands, seeming to remember that he’d been clutching it the entire time. “Oh..R-right.” He brought the mug up to his lips, feeling the steam ghost over his face as he took a sip of the warm, rich liquid.  
“So uh….f-fair is fair. What were y-you doing out on that street that late?” Morty’s tone was cautious. He knew most Rick’s didn’t take kindly to being questioned.  
“Tripping over your frozen ass. Clearly.” Rick responded smoothly and Morty gave a sheepish smile. He really should have expected that.  
“While you’re here, we need to work on figuring out your dimension number so we can at least get you home at some point.” Rick expertly guided the conversation back onto Morty.  
“I uh… I don’t remember the exact numbers, but I know my dimension started with an L.” Morty shook his head, really trying to call forward any memories of the times other Ricks referred to his Rick by his dimension number.  
“I can work off that. Just give me some time.” Rick finished off his coffee and stood up. He held out his hand to take the empty mug from Morty’s hands and Morty blinked at him for a second before passing off his mug. 

It took a few days to find Morty’s dimension number. First he had to find and bribe a Rick with access to the travel logs of the citadel, which was funnily enough the easy part, and then it was a matter of flipping through days and day worth of logs. The logs contained all of the dimension numbers of every Rick and Morty duo who had traveled to and from the Citadel. As luck would have it, there were a lot of Ricks and Mortys from the L section of the finite curve that had conveniently decided to travel back and forth over those few days. 

“Hey. So you can’t recall anything about your dimension number?” Rick asked one morning over breakfast. Morty hesitated, putting his spoon back into his bowl of Cinnamon Bread Crunchies. “Um…. I don’t...nngh…” He gave a little grunt as he tried to concentrate and remember anything he could. He rubbed his temples, hemming and hawing as he struggled to recall.  
“I-I know it was a weird number. I-It started with, with a zero or something. L-0 something…”  
Rick nodded. “I’ll see what I can dig up with that.”

It was the only dimension that started with an L-0-. Dimension number L-043. A Rick and his Morty had traveled to the Citadel from their home dimension about three days ago. Then the log showed L-043 Rick traveling back to his home dimension about four hours after their arrival. Now armed with the correct dimension number, he left the Council building and instead headed for the nearest quiet cafe. Pulling up a chair, he relaxed down into it and pulled out his communicator, punching the correct dimension number and a string of other digits into it before pressing the green button and watching the little machine make the connection and buzz the other end of the line until someone picked up. 

“Hello? Who the fuck is this?? Better be fucking good since you just scared off one of the most elusive species in that galaxy that I’m trying to fucking catch!!” A Rick’s voice snapped at him  
Rick quickly found he had no sympathy for the irate ass on the other end of the line  
“Tsk, well ain’t that a bitch. Alright, uh look. I don’t really need to bother telling you my name, so I’ll get right to the point. I think I found something that belongs to you and I was calling to see if and when you wanted it back.” He responded flatly.  
“Something of mine?” Rick L-043 repeated, sounding confused.  
“Yeah, dipshit. Your Morty. You must not have been paying attention to the Citadel weather, since they announced they’d be testing the limits of the artificial weather generator with near whiteout conditions for the next week and a half…” Rick was really having to work to keep himself from ripping this guy a new asshole.  
“Morty?? Fuck!! Did you actually fucking save that little shit?? Damn it! Leave it to a soft-hearted fuck like you to ruin what would have been an easy thing.” The Rick on the other end of the line seemed to have lost his temper again as he yelled into the communicator.  
“I left that sick little fuck in Mortytown hoping he’d keel over in the snow or something.  
“You could have taken him to the reassignment center. That’s a thing that exists…” Rick started to suggest, but the other Rick wasn’t having it.  
“Have you SEEN the size of the goddamn packet they make you fill out and all the shit they make you do?? Fuck that, man! I don’t have time for that, nor do I care what happens to him. He’s not my Morty. Not anymore. He’s a sick little fuck. Give him to the guys over at Pocket Mortys or something. I wouldn’t touch that nasty little turd with a fifty foot pole, but if that shit floats your boat, you can have it. I don’t want him. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a Vorglox storm glider to catch.” The line cut out and Rick glared down at his communicator. He couldn’t understand half the shit that Rick had spewed. Why the hell was he so disgusted with his Morty? There seemed to be nothing wrong with the kid, but if there was one thing he knew for sure about this… 

There was no way he could tell the kid what his Rick had said. It would shatter him. 

He had a choice. He could pawn off this kid on someone else. It wasn’t really his problem to deal with if he didn’t want to. He could easily, and with a mostly clear conscious, do what Rick said and pass him off to Pocket Mortys. That was a hard life for a Morty, but it was a life that promised food and care even if it was the bare minimum. 

Or there was option two…

“Hey Rick. Welcome home. A-any luck on finding my dimension and my Rick..?” Morty looked up from his spot on the couch when Rick let himself into his house. Rick closed the door behind him and sucked in a deep breath, rampant thoughts whirling through his head.

“No. Nothing yet kiddo. Sorry.” He finally answered and shook his head, making his way to the kitchen to find his half eaten box of stale wafers, washing them down with a pull from his bottle of Jack he left in his freezer. He carried box and bottle out to the front room with him and flopped down onto the other side of the couch from Morty, not quite making eye contact with the kid. 

Morty, assuming Rick’s stand-offish mood was because his leads were running cold, leaned over and touched his shoulder in a shy, but reassuring gesture.  
“W-well… something’ll come up soon.”  
Rick’s heart squeezed painfully and he lifted his bottle to his lips to try and wash away the guilt pooling in his gut. Fuck that Rick. Fuck him so hard. He never deserved a Morty like this anyway…

“Hey Morty. So, I need to ask this, just in case,” Rick started, lazily wiping his lip with the back of his hand. “What-urrrph- what would you do if I couldn’t find your Rick?” He asked, hoping his tone sounded casual and not like he knew something.  
Morty tilted his head and thoughtfully gazed up at the ceiling for a few long seconds.  
“I never r-really thought about it. But.. I guess I’d just have to find myself a new Rick..? I don’t...I don’t know.” He shrugged and looked back over at Rick, who dared to glance over and meet eyes with Morty. “What if-..” He started, feeling his throat seize slightly. He never intended to take on another Morty. Not after what had happened to his last one. But this Morty needed him, and that's all the incentive he needed. “What if I had to become your new Rick? You know, if we couldn’t find your other one.” He suggested carefully, piercing eyes studying Morty’s facial expression closely to gauge his reaction. Morty’s brows raised and he stared back at Rick.  
“You-y-you would do that? I mean..if you have room for me, I’d like that.” Morty gave a genuine smile.  
Rick gave a curt nod and turned away from Morty towards the television.  
“A’ight.”

Morty’s inquiries about his home dimension started to lessen from almost every day, to maybe once a week, and then faded to him seeming to forget it entirely. Outside of that, Morty adjusted easily to his new home life. Rick found him surprising useful out on missions. Morty seemed to know when he was needed almost before Rick asked and was quick to obey anything Rick demanded of him without question. With an uncomfortable sinking in his gut, Rick wondered if it was because Morty feared being abandoned again. It was a valid fear after what happened to the poor boy with his last Rick. 

“Morty!! This thing is gonna go nuclear in 5 seconds if I don’t disarm it!! I need you to grab me the plasma driver off the shelf in my-” Rick had started to snap as he worked furiously to disable a defense mechanism on the piece of alien technology he’d been trying to disassemble, but was cut off when he turned his head and found himself face to face with the tool he’d asked for before he’d told Morty where exactly to find it.  
“Got it! Rick!! It’s glowing red! Ohhh jeez jeez!!” Morty shoved the driver into Rick’s hand, looking white as a sheet and panicked as Rick snatched the tool and quickly unscrewed the piece that connected wire to detonator. Almost immediately the object’s red glow faded and it seemed to have become safe to handle once more. Rick’s shoulders slumped and let his head loll back with a loud groaning sigh.  
“Fuck, that was close… Did you, you see that Morty? That’s the reason I wanted this stupid hunk of junk anyway. A defense mechanism so sensitive to outside tampering is a pain in the ass to make. I could do it myself, but you know- I’m workin’ smarter not harder here. Shit’s always easier when I don’t- when someone else does the legwork for you!” Rick grinned and snatched up the object, shaking it in Morty’s face.  
“Uhh...y-yeah. Sure thing, Rick.” Morty didn’t look convinced, pretty sure that it would have taken less time for Rick to make the damn thing himself than it took them to obtain it from those hostile aliens. But there was no way he’d dare say that. He’d already lost his first Rick for reasons he couldn’t figure out, he didn’t want it to happen again. 

He bit his lip and turned away, wanting to hide the emotions welling up inside of him as painful memories of his abandonment resurfaced. He could see it in his mind’s eye, the dark, cold, disgusted expression his Rick gave him as he watched Rick deliberately slow down and veer off the sidewalk they’d strolled down, letting Morty continue to walk ahead, now unaccompanied and alone.  
Right at that moment, when Rick turned away, Morty just so happened to catch the reflection of his Rick in the glass of a storefront, and he wondered if Rick knew that he could see him. But he didn’t stop to turn back for Rick either, which made them both at fault in a way. He could have turned back. But he knew nothing he did could stop Rick. He loved his Rick. Loved him more than a Morty usually would or should and part of him worried that Rick had discovered the depths in which Morty loved him. He would have killed himself for his Rick if he’d needed to. He’d even stolen Rick’s lab coat out of the laundry hamper on several different occasions to snuggle with it on nights when he couldn’t sleep. They say if you love someone, let them go. He would always hold out the hope that maybe Rick would return.

But it was blindingly obvious Rick didn’t feel anywhere close to the same, and he was never coming back.  
Whatever bond they’d developed from the year they’d spent together was now suddenly gone and his Rick no longer wanted anything to do with him. The weeks leading up to Rick’s abandoning, he had noticed a serious shift in Rick’s attitude towards him. No longer did he burst into Morty’s room drunkenly demanding adventures. No more did he order Morty to grab him things he himself was too lazy to grab. In fact, he’d started avoiding talking to him period. At least until that day… 

“Hey Morty. Let’s go on an adventure. I have to go to the Citadel for.. Just..grab your stuff.” 

Morty didn’t even think to question it. At least until he watched his own Rick abandon him.

The water from the shower head rained down on Morty’s skin, as hot as he could physically stand it. It stung and felt good all at once, drowning out that hunger for skin on skin contact he’d been feeling since his feelings for his original Rick had developed. He had hoped that the things he felt would go away with all that had happened, but to his dismay they had only grown stronger. This Rick was kind in all the ways his Rick was not.  
While he was still a Rick and still had one hell of a temper on him, it was different. Where his previous Rick would snap, chew him out and then shut down, this Rick would snap, cuss, and then either force himself to chill, or find something else to take it out on.  
Where his original Rick would disregard him and leave him to get his own ass out of trouble, this Rick always seemed to keep a sharp eye on him, always seemed to be there in the nick of time with an arm around his waist to yank him out of harm’s way.  
The contrast was shocking, and it did nothing to solve the problem at hand… Or, the problem currently stiffening between his legs. He gave a little whine and reached down to crank the temperature up just a little more, feeling the sting of the water against his back as he leaned forward against the cool, wet tile and took himself in hand. He closed his eyes and dug around in his memories, pulling forth the adventure his new Rick had taken him on only a few days ago.

They had infiltrated an alien warship, hoping to locate the coordinates for some...thing Rick had been babbling about the entire trip there. Some… super rare crystalline material that could be used to hyperfocus beams of light. But only a few minutes after they’d snuck aboard, Morty had accidentally tripped an alarm, sending the entire ship into lockdown.  
“Shit..! Damn it Morty..! What the hell did you do??” Rick hissed, grabbing Morty by the wrist and darting down the nearest corridor.  
“I-I’m sorry, Rick!! I-I-I didn’t know there was a-a wire thing by the cargo..!” Morty squeaked, stumbling after Rick, struggling to keep up with Rick’s longer stride.  
“It’s called a trip wire, you little idiot. Down this way.!” He growled back and veered off from the corridor into a small storage room. It was only about 4 feet wide and deep, with only enough room left for two people to squeeze into between the storage boxes already stacked in there. Rick pulled Morty around and shoved him into the small space first before cramming himself in after. He pressed himself tightly against Morty, trying to take up as little space as possible while shielding Morty with his own body in case they were found.  
Despite the panic and adrenaline racing through Morty’s body, he shamefully found his body reacting to the pressure, hands traveling up to grasp the front of Rick’s shirt and hold on tightly as he pressed just a little closer and buried his face into Rick’s narrow, but solid chest. He could hear that strong thrumming heartbeat as it pounded against his ear, wondering if Rick’s heart would ever pound like that for him. He figured Rick would probably assume he was clinging to him out of fear, since he didn’t mention his odd behavior once after they’d completed the mission.

With the memory of being sandwiched tightly between Rick and a wall pulled to the forefront of his mind, Morty started a tantalizingly slow rhythm, now imagining Rick was there, in the shower and pressing him against the cold tiles, long nimble fingers wrapped around his length and teasing him with this slow pace, wanting to hear him whine and beg.  
“...ah..! O-ohh Rick...please…” Morty breathed, his eyes squeezed shut as he tightened his grip, picturing Rick giving him a little squeeze, wanting to encourage his begging.  
“Mmh, Riiiick…” Morty gave a bit of a louder moan, his voice echoing slightly against the bathroom walls as his rhythm grew faster, his imaginary Rick rewarding him for being such a good boy. 

The problem with showers was that it was impossible to tell how loud you were being until it was usually too late… 

His moans and coos reverberated nicely along the tiles and echoed right down the hall to where Rick sat, crosslegged on the couch, a device in his lap that he was in the process of pulling apart to see what made it tick. Seriously, it was ticking and bothering the shit out of him and he wanted to make it stop. The ticking was completely unnecessary anyway. With most of his focus directed towards that obnoxious ticking, he almost missed the faint sound of Morty’s voice coming from the bathroom. It had almost sounded like a pained whine and he immediately set aside the device and stood up off the couch to stand in front of the bathroom door, leaning against the door jamb to listen. 

“Rick…ffh...fuck, Rick...please…!” Morty’s voice pleaded from the other side of the bathroom door and Rick’s brow shot up in surprise. 

Everything clicked into place and he finally understood. 

He’d only ever heard rumors of Mortys falling for and lusting for their Ricks, but he never thought he’d really ever witness it himself.  
So that was why Rick L-043 had abandoned him, left him out in the cold to die. He found himself wondering what Morty even saw in that guy. All Ricks were assholes in their own right and he would be the first to admit that, but that guy was a downright piece of scum. Honestly, was it really that big of a deal…? So what if the kid wanted a piece of his grandpa? Half the galaxy did too. 

He stood just outside the bathroom for a good minute, weighing his options before he grasped the door knob and silently let himself in, closing the door behind himself. He could hear everything now. Morty’s hisses and whimpers, the soft wet sound of Morty’s strokes. Man, it was music. As silently as possible he started to shed his clothing, taking care not to let his belt buckle fall to the floor.  
It was difficult to slip around the plastic shower curtain quietly, but he managed just fine. Morty was still blissfully oblivious to the world around him, completely absorbed in his own fantasies when the pressure of another against his back suddenly wasn’t just a part of his fantasy.  
“Both hands on the wall.” Rick’s voice growled in Morty’s left ear, his mouth brushing the wet shell of Morty’s ear.  
“R-Rick?!” Morty had seized up and started to panic, but long, nimble fingers snatched Morty’s wrist and yanked his hand away, bringing it up to the tile wall with the other and pinning them there.  
“Shhh… Relax. You wanna-you’re gonna be a good boy for your grandpa Rick, aren’tcha..?” Rick crooned against Morty’s ear before dipping his head to gently suck the moisture from the crook of Morty’s shoulder. Morty bit down hard on his lip, giving a muffled little noise between a grunt and a whimper.  
“Atta boy.” Rick muttered before dragging his tongue from Morty’s shoulder up his neck, to that soft little spot just behind his ear lobe, drawing a sharp inhale from the boy.  
“Mnnh…!” Morty couldn’t stifle the sharp moan that forced its way from his throat when he realized Rick’s free hand had been creeping over his hip and downwards, his fingers slowly encircling the base of that painfully rigid boyhood and giving it a firm little squeeze.  
Morty’s hips instinctually bucked into Rick’s hand, his jaw finally falling slack as he started to pant lightly. Rick smirked against the boy’s neck, starting a rhythm in time with the rhythm Morty’s body had begun naturally, steady and firm.  
Feeling the boy fuck into his hand, his shaft slipping nicely against his palm as he squeezed here and there, causing Morty’s rhythm to stutter and his breath to hitch every time.

“I’m gonna let go of your hands. If they move away from the wall even a little, I’m stopping. Capiche?” Rick ordered and Morty only gave a meek little nod. With that, Rick’s hand loosened around Morty’s wrists and migrated to his waist, slipping up his chest, nimble fingers seeking out Morty’s right nipple, giving it a little tweak. The boy’s spine arched beautifully and though his fingers twitched, his palms remained firmly planted to the wall.  
“F-fuck...Riiick…” Morty breathed, letting his head loll forward, moisture from the shower starting to collect at his parted lips and the tip of his nose, his half lidded gaze watching the droplets fall to the bottom of the shower as his focus remained on the searing hot pleasure pooling in his gut and what felt like Rick’s own hard on digging against his right ass cheek every time he drew back. 

Though Rick’s body (and dick) had reacted positively to the wet friction between their bodies, he kept his focus on Morty, wanting to make up for all the shit his previous Rick had put him through. He picked up his pace, his thumb rubbing over that sensitive tip and smearing the beads of precum that collected there.  
“Nnn….such a good boy, Morty…” Rick uttered, his free roaming hand now slipping up past Morty’s collarbone to take his jaw between his thumb and forefinger and guide his head upwards, his own dipping down to catch Morty’s wet lips in his own. Morty whined against his mouth, but was quick to press back into the kiss, weakly trying to reciprocate as Rick’s mouth quickly dominated his own with teeth and tongue.  
Morty’s nerves felt like they were fried, his sluggish mind hazy with pleasure… He could feel that heat pooling low in his gut, feel his orgasm starting to creep up on him. Starting to chase it down and follow that sweet spot of pressure and friction, he bucked firmly into Rick’s hand, moaning noisily against his mouth and feeling Rick devour his sounds. But without warning, it all suddenly felt too much to handle. He broke the kiss off and despite Rick’s order to keep his hands on the wall, one hand snakes down to grab Rick’s forearm just as he topples over the edge with a loud cry that echoed against the tiled walls of the bathroom. 

Rick felt Morty grab his arm as he felt the boy’s smaller body tensing against his own, feeling his cock twitch in his hand as he stroked and squeezed, cum oozing over his knuckles until the boy was spent.  
“Mmmh… That’s the ticket…” Rick encouraged breathily, feeling Morty come undone against him. He released Morty’s exhausted boyhood and slipped his still slick hand up Morty’s abdomen, now just embracing him underneath the spray of the shower. His own erection still rested solidly against Morty’s backside, but that was something he’d take care of later. Right now his focus was Morty… 

“Well, now that we’re getting everything out on the table…” Rick started after a good minute of silence, the temperature of the water starting to grow colder. Morty gave a funny little twitch as Rick’s words broke through the thick clouds of his afterglow. He blinked and angled his head to stare up at Rick, a little worry crease showing right between his brows. Rick stared right back down at him, his expression neutral.  
“I know what happened between you and your Rick, and before you freak out, no I’m not angry that you lied.”  
Morty swallowed thickly and gave a little nod.  
“Does it….y-ya know, bother you?” He inquired quietly.  
“Kid, if it bothered me, you really, honestly think I’d still be standing here right now? No. I wouldn’t be.” Rick answered simply. “But I’m gonna be real with you for a sec, so listen up.” His brow dipped in the middle slightly. “I want you to be my Morty. Your Rick is-he’s a piece of shit, Morty. He doesn’t deserve you. You-you’re a good kid.” He finished lamely. 

Morty can do nothing but stare as he processes what Rick was saying, what he was offering. They’d been living as a Rick and Morty pair for a few weeks now, but there was always this hesitation, this invisible wall between them because he didn’t know if he was ever going to see his old life again. He breaks eye contact and looks down, thinking back to his old life.

His family. 

His old Rick had probably already wiped every trace of his existence from their memories and though he’d miss them, they wouldn’t.  
“Rick. I… I want that too. I want to stay here, I-I wanna stay with you and be your Morty.” He looked back up at Rick and turned to reach up and wrap both arms around Rick’s neck, pulling him down and hugging him tight enough to make Rick grunt.  
“Y-yeah..? Well….good.” Rick sheepishly returned the hug, nuzzling down into Morty’s wet curls. He could feel goosebumps along the boy’s skin and with a blink he realized the shower was no longer hot and steamy and was now coming out almost icy.  
“Alright, alright. Let go of me, brat. Let’s go dry off, get changed, and you can help me with that device I nicked from Florbo. Then maybe you can return the favor I did for ya.” He added as he let go of Morty, reaching over to turn the frigid shower off and pluck a couple towels off the towel rack, tossing one to Morty as he stepped out of the shower. 

Morty blushed dark and hid it behind the towel.  
“Y-yeah...sounds good, Grandpa Rick…” He nodded and then with his mouth muffled by the towel he added a soft, “love you…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!!”

“Uh huh. Whatever.” Rick knelt to pick up his clothes off the bathroom floor, holding his towel around his waist with his other hand. 

“Love you too, brat.” He muttered, before leaving the bathroom.

Morty’s face flushed darker if possible and he buried his face into his towel to muffle an embarrassed but overjoyed scream.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Love you guys. 
> 
> Punk_B1rd


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